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Soon all the little rabbits began their moonlight dance. 

(Page 69) 


WHITE FEATHER 


By 

» e 

DAVID^CORY 
^ 1 . 


Little Indian Series 

Volume Two 


Ulustrated by 

LEE HAYNES 


THE SAALHELD PUBLISHING COMPANY 
AKRON, OHIO 


MADE IN U. S. A. 



Copyright, 1922 

by 

The Saalfield Publishing Co. 


SAAIJ-ELD 


SEP 18 1922 


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ILLUSTRATIONS 


Page 

Soon all the little rabbits began their 


moonlight dance Frontispiece 

Little Indian led the procession from the 

camp to the broad prairie 36 


From the smoke that arose flew forth a 
flock of pigeons, one with a breast as 
blue as the sky 74 

he commanded, turning to the 
cowardly Indian 96 


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FOREWORD 


THE INDIAN BOY 

By 

DR. JOSEPH KOSSUTH DIXON 

Leader of the Rodman Wanamaker Historical Expeditions to the 
North American Indian 

There is a secure immortality and a depth of intui- 
tion in the utterance of Wordsworth, the peer of na- 
ture's poets, when from his pastoral reed he strikes 
the notes: 

^*The child is father of the man/^ 

Nothing could be more insistently and persistently 
true of the Indian child — the girl to be the mother 
of warriors, the boy to become a hero and the father 
of future braves. 

It goes back, all of it, to a heredity born of three 
vital and vitalizing forces. The Indian holds with 
steadfastness and devotion to his many and weird 
ceremonies, but these all lead him back to the su- 
preme, piloting force of his life, his unfailing faith 
in the Great Mystery. 

The altar stairs to the spirit world are hills, but- 
tressed by granite; trees that talk with the winds — 
whispers from the spirit world; the thunder of the 
waterfall — the voice of the Great Mystery; stars — the 
footprints of warriors treading the highways of the 
Happy Hunting Ground. In all of these he sees God. 

Falling into communion with this happy philosophy 
of life, the glory of Indian motherhood crosses our 


path — and there are few things more beautiful. When 
the day of expectation dawns upon her, she seeks the 
solitude of all the majesty in which from childhood 
she has seen the footprints of Grod — revels, communes, 
rehearses to herself the heroism of the greatest hero 
of her tribe, and all that the impress of it may be 
felt upon the master man, the miracle of whose life 
has been entrusted to her to work out. 

For the first two full years of his life, a spiritual 
hand guides his steps. There, in struggle and patience 
and self-denial, he must learn all of nature ^s glad 
story. 

His grandparents then take him into their school. 
He learns to ride before he can walkj he is taught 
the use of the bow and arrow, which means hitting 
the mark, keenness of vision, a steady aim, precision, 
so that when the crisis comes he is ready — an ample 
reason for the brave, effective and self-reliant con- 
duct of the Indian soldier on the fields of France in 
the World War. 

Deep breathing in the open air, giving full lung 
power; self-denial, giving strength of limb and endur- 
ance in the race; fellowship with all of nature ^s win- 
some and wild moods; a discerning will power; a 
steadfast reliance upon the guiding hand of the Great 
Spirit, empower the Indian boy to stand on all the 
high hills of history and challenge any militant force 
that may confront him. 

The sphere is complete; Boy: Mother: God. 




WHITE FEATHER 


CHAPTER I 

LITTLE INDIAN AND TASNAHECA 

I HAVE a task for you/’ said the 
Small Dog, standing before Lit- 
tle Indian’s tepee. ‘‘And when 
you have told your red-skinned broth- 
ers of it and they have done their part 
you may lead them to your father’s 
camp, for by that time they will have 
sufficient food for the journey.” 

“I am ready to follow you,” replied 
Little Indian. 

“Then come with me,” said the 
Small Dog. Toward the wood he led 
the way, where the oaks, hazels, wal- 
nuts and beeches made a pleasant 

9 


10 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


shade. On reaching a big walnut tree 
the Small Dog stopped and said: 

^‘Eest awhile, 0 Little Indian, for I 
expect my friend, Tasnaheca, the Chip- 
munk, to arrive shortly.’’ 

It was very cool and pleasant, and the 
Small Dog was a good companion, so 
that Little Indian did not feel restless. 
He had been taught the art of patience, 
as are all Indian boys. He could lie 
for hours with his ear to the ground, 
listening for the hoof-beats of the buf- 
falo on the broad prairie. It was an 
easy matter now, beneath the shade, 
while Tate Wiyohpeyata, the West 
Wind, rustled the leaves. Now and 
again a nut dropped to the ground, 
shaken off by West Wind’s nimble 
fingers. 

‘‘Our waiting is over,” said the 
Small Dog, “for here comes Tasna- 
heca.” The Chipmunk paused to pick 


WHITE FEATHER 


11 


up the nuts. He stuffed them into his 
cheek-pouches until they could hold no 
more. As he finished stuffing in the last 
nut the Small Dog said to him: ^‘Listen, 
O industrious Tasnaheca! My red- 
skinned friend, Little Indian, would 
supply his brothers who are camped 
nearby with food so that they may have 
sufficient to last them on their journey 
to his father’s camp.” 

Tasnaheca, the Chipmunk, turned his 
eyes on Little Indian. Then he care- 
fully took out the nuts from his cheek- 
pouches so that he might reply distinct- 
ly. He piled them carefully in one spot 
and then advanced a few steps. 

Before he commenced to speak Zica, 
the Red Squirrel, ran out on a branch 
overhead and commenced to chatter 
and scold. ‘^Tou cannot take our 
nuts,” he cried. 

Little Indian looked up at him. 


12 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Many times he had heard about Zica. 
It was this Red Squirrel, so his old 
grandmother had told him, who first 
with his tattling tongue had set Mal- 
sum, the Wicked Wolf, against his 
brother, Glooscap the Good. 

‘‘Pay no heed to Zica,’’ said the 
Small Dog. “We are waiting for your 
answer, 0 industrious Tasnaheca.” 

“Follow me, my friends,” replied the 
Chipmunk, and he led them to his home. 
“You may uncover my lodge,” said 
Tasnaheca. 

Little Indian took a sharp stick and 
commenced digging. Presently he 
came to a long, winding passageway 
leading to a little storehouse full of 
nuts. “You are welcome to my sup- 
plies,” said the Chipmimk. “I have 
yet time to fill another before the Win- 
ter Eung comes on his snowflake 
horses.” 


CHAPTER II 


LITTLE INDIAN GOES FISHING 

T he next morning when the east 
was tinged with the colors of the 
rainbow, for the Great Sun was 
just rising from his purple couch and 
Tate Wiyohiyanpa, the East Wind, was 
scattering the darkness with his silver 
arrows, the tepee flap was slowly drawn 
aside and Little Indian beheld the form 
of the Small Dog standiug out against 
the gray of the morning. 

‘‘Heed me well, 0 Little Indian,’’ he 
said. “Today you must lead the tribe 
to your father’s camp. But I fear there 
is yet scarce food enough for the jour- 
ney. Come with me.” 

Slinging his bow and quiver of ar- 
rows over his shoulder, the little In- 
is 


14 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


dian boy followed his faithful friend. 
For some distance they traveled in si- 
lence. As they neared a river the Small 
Dog said: ‘‘Fish in plenty swim in 
yonder bright waters. I would have 
you catch a bountiful supply. Icapsin- 
sincadan, the Swallow, who builds her 
lodge from the mud of the river bank, 
tells me there will be fish in abundance 
today in the bright waters of this 
river.’’ 

“But I have no net,” replied Little 
Indian. “Only my bow and arrows 
have I with me.” 

“True,” answered the Small Dog, 
“but have patience. Little Indian.” 

“If there were but tall marsh grasses 
growing here,” said Little Indian, “I 
would weave a net in which to catch the 
silver fishes.” 

“Again I would counsel you to have 
patience,” replied the Small Dog. 


WHITE FEATHER 


15 


On a bush near at hand Unktomi, the 
Black Spider, sat industriously spin- 
ning a huge web. Presently she turned 
her little black eyes upon him and said, 
’Tis I who but a month ago taught 
Little Indian the art of net weaving.’’ 

‘^She speaks the truth,” said the lit- 
tle Indian boy; ‘‘but there are no 
swamp grasses here with which to fash- 
ion a net, good Unktomi,” he added, 
turning to the Black Spider. 

“Therefore will I spin a net for you, 
0 Little Indian, for well have you 
obeyed the laws of the forest and the 
prairie. I will spin a net at once and 
when it’s finished you may cast it into 
yonder bright water and it will bring 
forth many fishes.” Then she set to 
work industriously spinning and in a 
short time the net w^as finished. 

“Now cast it into the bright waters,” 
she commanded. “I am proud of you. 


16 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


0 Little Indian; I who taught the great 
god Michabo the art of knitting, he who 
smokes his pipe to fill the valleys with 
the haze of Indian summer/’ 

Little Indian cast the net, and when 
he drew it from the river it was filled to 
overfiowing with the silver fishes. 
Again and again he cast it in, and each 
time drew it forth overfiowing. 

^‘Hasten to your red-skinned broth- 
ers,” said the Small Dog. ‘‘Tell them 
to come and fetch the silver fishes to 
their wigwams.” 


CHAPTER m 


MANY PAEEWELLS 


T HUEE feathers and his tribe 
were eager to follow Little Indian 
to his father’s camp now that 
they had sufficient food to last them on 
their journey. Soon the ponies would 
be loaded with packs or harnessed be- 
tween the long tepee poles, the ends 
dragging on the ground making a sort 
of sledge on which to fasten the camp 
baggage and cooking utensils. 

While Little Indian, mounted on his 
piebald, waited for the warriors to join 
him, Maga-hota, the Gray Goose, sailed 
majestically across the sky, followed by 
her flock. She had spent the summer- 
half of the year in northern Greenland 
and was now returning. There was a 

17 


18 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


chill in the air as she fanned her great 
wings across the blue of the high heav- 
ens. 

Icapsinsincadan, the Swift Swallow, 
gathered her flock together. ‘^We are 
holding our councils and are ready to 
fly to the sunny southland,’’ she twit- 
tered, pointing to a long line of swal- 
lows sitting on an old log by the river 
bank. 

Teach me some day to build a lodge 
of mud, for I would learn your way. 
Your small mud tepees are good, and I 
would learn many things from my 
feathered brothers,” cried Little In- 
dian. 

‘^Farewell, my little red-skinned 
brother,” said Tuhmaja, the Honey 
Bee. 

^‘May you gather much honey ere the 
snowflakes fill the clover-tops,” an- 
swered Little Indian. 


WHITE FEATHER 


19 


‘‘When they arrive I shall be safe in 
the hollow tree/^ replied Tuhmaja. 

Next Tasnaheca, the Chipmunk, came 
to say farewell. “Here are nuts for 
you,” he cried, taking several from his 
cheek-pouches and handing them to 
Little Indian. “You may need them on 
your journey.” 

Zica, the Red Squirrel, looked on, 
chattering and scolding from an over- 
hanging bough. He was not generous 
like little Tasnaheca, nor was he a good 
friend. He was the crosspatch of the 
forest. 

TJnktomi, the Black Spider, swung 
herself down by a slender thread and 
looked at Little Indian with her small 
black eyes. “Farewell, 0 Little Fisher 
of the Bright and Silver Waters; may 
you never cast your net without finding 
an abundance of fishes.” 

“Farewell, 0 industrious Unktomi,” 


20 


LITTLE INDIAN STOEIES 


replied Little Indian; “may the dew 
never hinder your web from catching 
flies and insects.” 

Then the Small Dog ran up whining, 
“It is time for us to leave, 0 Little 
Master.” 


CHAPTER IV 


THE JOUENET HOME 

L ittle Indian led the proces- 
sion from the camp to the broad 
prairie. “My heart goes out to 
you,” said Three Feathers. “May we 
have a safe journey to Big Chief, your 
father.” 

The heavily laden ponies, with the 
squaws and papooses, made slow prog- 
ress, and for many days and nights they 
slowly wended their way over the broad 
plain. The supply of food, however, 
seemed sufficient, and all were content 
with the thought that they would soon 
reach Big Chief’s camp where there was 
food a-plenty, dried buffalo and deer 
meat, as well as com and wild rice. 

The Small Dog was the constant com- 
21 


22 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


panion of ^‘Little Medicine Man,’’ as 
Three Feathers loved to call Little In- 
dian. All the tribe looked upon him as 
having great power, for had he not de- 
livered them from famine, and was he 
not leading them to a land of plenty? 

One day a dull, gray cloud came up 
out of the north and hid the face of the 
sun. It looked like the bosom of a gray 
bird. Then little white feathers floated 
through the air and a chilly wind ruffled 
the dry prairie grass. 

‘‘Waziya is coming from the north- 
land, driving his white ponies before 
him. Ere long they will cover the 
prairie,” said the Small Dog with a 
shiver. 

‘‘Must we not make greater haste?” 
asked Little Indian. “They may over- 
take and hold us.” 

The Small Dog looked anxiously at 
the gloomy heavens. 


WHITE FEATHER 


23 


“They may overtake us,” he replied, 
“but they cannot hold us for I have 
taken oath, 0 Little Indian, to bring 
you safely to the tepee of your father.” 

Soon the snowflakes covered all the 
prairie, and towards evening the Small 
Dog turned aside and led them to a 
wooded hollow. 

“We will camp here for the night,” 
he said. 

In a short time the wigwams were 
set up and the campflres burning 
brightly. The trees broke the force of 
the wind and the dead limbs and 
branches scattered over the ground 
supplied the cheerful fires. Still the 
storm continued and the snow grew 
deeper and deeper. 

Little Indian went up to Three 
Feathers and said: “My brother, the 
Small Dog, says this will be a great 
storm. Tell your squaws to gather a 


24 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

plentiful supply of wood for our fires. 
Waniyetu has indeed overtaken us.” 

When morning came, it was still 
snowing, and the prairie was covered 
deep with the snowflakes which Wani- 
yetu had sent flying from his land in 
the north. 

After the ponies were fed many of 
the younger braves strapped on snow- 
shoes and went to look for game. These 
were made of maplewood and deer’s 
hide and fastened on the feet by strips 
of leather. They were different from 
those worn by Little Indian, for each 
tribe has its own peculiar kind. 

It would be folly to travel in the 
blinding snow, although Little Indian 
knew that their supply of food would 
run short if they were forced to remain 
long in the camp. He looked about to 
consult the Small Dog, but he was no- 
where to be seen. Little Indian was 


WHITE FEATHER 


25 


alone in his wigwam. Outside the wind 
moaned and wailed, piling the snow in 
great drifts. Wrapping his blanket 
about him, he fell asleep. In his dream 
he beheld a great tepee. A crown of 
sunlight lay upon it, pointed with a 
cluster of stars, the symbols of the cold 
northland. 

It was painted to look like ice, and 
the four yellow legs, with great green 
claws extending down the front of the 
tepee, were drawn to represent the 
Thunder-bird. A glaring red buffalo 
frowned above the door, while bunches 
of crow feathers, strung with little 
bells, swung tinkling in the wind. And 
as he dreamed. Little Indian beheld a 
tall, white-haired man come out of the 
tepee. His face was painted yellow 
and a red line ran across his mouth and 
another across his eyes to his ears. In 
his outstretched hand he held a black 


26 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


stone pipe and a mink tobacco pouch. 

^^Take these gifts, 0 Little Indian,” 
he said, and in his dream the Indian lad 
put forth his hand. Then he awoke to 
find himself alone in his wigwam. He 
rubbed his eyes and looked about him. 
A slight noise caught his ear. 

^^Who walks around my tepee? Come 
in — come in!” cried Little Indian, 
thinking it might be the tall, white- 
haired man. Instead in came the Small 
Dog. On his four feet were snowshoes 
and in his mouth he carried a black 
stone pipe and a mink tobacco pouch. 

‘^Accept, 0 Little Indian, these gifts 
from Waniyetu. From his snow tepee 
he sends the driving snow and the bit- 
ing wind. But because you have 
obeyed the laws of the Great Spirit he 
bids me bring you this pipe. Smoke it 
and the storm will disappear.” 

Little Indian arose and took the pipe, 


WHITE FEATHER 


27 


and after filling it from the mink to- 
bacco pouch, stood in the doorway of 
his tepee. And the clouds of smoke 
that came from the pipe melted the 
snowflakes and a gentle rain fell. 
Slowly the snowdrifts vanished from 
the prairie, and by evening of the next 
day he entered his father’s lodge. 


CHAPTER V 


LITTLE INDIAN'S FIEST DEEE 

I T was November, the ^‘Moon of 
Snows/’ The frosts had turned 
into opal and orange the leaves of 
the forest and along the grass tops had 
laid their snowy laces. Colder grew 
the weather and gradually the rivers 
became coated with a thick layer of ice. 
Tate Waziyata, The Wind of the North- 
land, would soon be sending down his 
tribe of snowflakes. 

Although considered quite a hero by 
the boys and girls since the day his 
father had sent him on an important 
mission to Three Feathers, Little In- 
dian was modest, as all Indian boys are 
brought up to be, and indulged in all 
their games with the spirit of youth. 

28 


WHITE FEATHER 


29 


He had made into a rough sled the 
skull of the buffalo which he had slain 
and with the aid of two strong leather 
thongs drew it swiftly across the ice. 
Many a little Indian girl enjoyed sit- 
ting on this strange kind of a sled while 
the boys raced over the ice pretending 
they were swift mustangs. 

The tribe was waiting for the first 
deep fall of snow. Then, equipped with 
bows and arrows, their feet shod with 
swift running snowshoes, they set out 
on a deer hunt. For several days the 
sky had been overcast. At night the 
wind moaned through the forest. Light 
fiurries of snow fell, until one morning 
Little Indian awoke to find the ground 
covered with a deep mantle of white. 

Strapping on his snowshoes, he wan- 
dered into the forest to look for deer 
trails. As he penetrated deeper and 
deeper into the woods, silent and mo- 


30 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


tionless under the quiet sky and the 
soft covering of snow, he peered anx- 
iously about for a footprint to tell him 
the deer were near. But search as he 
might, he could find no trace' of them. 

Suddenly Siyo, the Grouse, whizzed 
off through the wood. There was a 
whirl of snowflakes from her wings and 
feathers for all through the night she 
had slept beneath the warm snowdrift. 

‘^0, Siyo, I will not hurt you,” cried 
Little Indian. ^‘Return and tell me 
where the deer are to be found.” 

Siyo paused in her flight. Then she 
flew back and settled down gently on 
the snow. Slowly she advanced toward 
Little Indian, stepping on the snow 
with the snowshoes with which the 
Great Spirit had provided her. The 
comb-like fringe which grows between 
her slender toes as winter approaches 
prevents her feet from sinking into the 


WHITE FEATHER 31 

soft snow and enables her to travel as 
well as if she had on a pair of snow- 
shoes made of maplewood, such as 
Little Indian wore. 

“Not far from here in a secluded 
glade,” replied Siyo, “are the deer. 
But remember the Law. Kill only what 
you need for food.” Then with a whir 
of wings she flew away. 

Little Indian watched Siyo, the 
Ruffed Grouse, until she disappeared 
from view. Then he followed the trail 
down to the glade where she had told 
him the deer were sheltering them- 
selves from the storm, for it was still 
snowing and Tate Waziyata was blow- 
ing his wind trumpets in the treetops. 

It was the best kind of weather to 
hunt deer. The snow lay inches deep 
upon the ground and as Little Indian 
proceeded further he foimd tracks 
which told him plainly that deer had 


32 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

sought shelter in the glade. The wind 
was blowing toward him, so that they 
could not scent his coming, and all that 
was needed was great precaution on his 
part not to make a noise to frighten 
them. Silently he worked his way for- 
ward, his snowshoes making no sound 
on the soft carpet of snow. 

A little creek, now frozen over, ran 
along the trail down to the glade, end- 
ing in a salt lick where the animals 
came to eat the salt which lay upon the 
wxll-trodden edges of the muddy places. 

Noiselessly he crept forward until he 
was close to the lick. So silently did he 
approach that the deer which were nos- 
ing under the snow for the salt were 
unaware of his coming. Fitting an ar- 
row to his bow, he picked out a fine 
buck and was just about to let fly an 
arrow when a large dead limb overhead 
snapped beneath its weight of snow and 


WHITE FEATHER 


33 


fell with a crash to the ground. Little 
Indian was forced to dodge it as it fell. 
It was well that the cracking of the 
limb gave him sufficient warning, other- 
wise he might have been severely in- 
jured. The noise alarmed the timid 
deer and off they went. 

There was nothing now to do but 
build a tiny hut of branches in which to 
hide until daybreak. Retracing his 
steps for a mile or more, he made a fire 
and cooked a rabbit which he was suc- 
cessful in shooting. After this he re- 
turned to the salt lick. When the hut 
of branches was completed he hid him- 
self inside and wrapped his blanket 
about him. It was quite comfortable, 
and he soon fell asleep, to be awakened 
in the early dawn by a slight noise. 
Peering cautiously out, he saw to his 
delight that the deer had returned. 
Offering up a prayer to the Great Spirit 


34 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


to aid him, as the tribe was in need of 
food, Little Indian carefully took aim 
and the big buck at which he aimed the 
day before fell pierced with the arrow. 
Before its comrades could scamper 
away he laid low another fine deer with 
a well-directed shot. Hastily returning 
to the camp he informed Big Chief of 
what he had done, who at once set out 
with his braves to bring home the deer. 

‘‘Well have you helped the tribe, O 
Little Indian,’’ said his old grand- 
mother, laying her hand upon his head. 


CHAPTER VI 


THE BEAR HUNT 

I T was a long, hard winter. Hungry 
times these were in the camp. The 
stock of dried meat and com was 
daily becoming less and less. Almost 
the only food to be had was deer meat. 
But this was hard to get. For some 
time there had been a crast of snow, 
but it was too light to bear an Indian’s 
weight. Even with snowshoes it was 
difficult to travel, for the cmst cracked, 
turning up the sharp edges and trip- 
ping the most skillful runner, and the 
soimd of the breaking crast frightened 
the deer. 

“Are you hungry, mother?” asked 
Little Indian. 


35 


36 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


‘‘No, my son,’’ answered Blue Water, 
“but I am very faint.” 

“I will make broth from the bones of 
foxes and wildcats that are strewn 
about the camp,” said Little Indian’s 
^grandmother. 

When this simple meal was over the 
old grandmother turned to Little In- 
dian and said: 

“The Great Spirit will guide you.” 

Then Little Indian set out, but the 
deer heard his feet breaking through 
the snow crust. He no sooner caught 
sight of them than they were away on 
the run. 

After walking for several miles he 
came to a tree in which was a large hole 
some distance up the massive trunk. 
The bark was well scratched, and Little 
Indian at once knew it was the hiding 
place of a bear. Making a bundle of 






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WHITE FEATHER 


37 


dry, half rotten wood, he set fire to it 
and, placing several limbs against the 
tree, climbed up and dropped the smok- 
ing wood into the hole. Then sliding 
down to the ground, he retired a little 
way. He did not have long to wait. In 
a few minutes, half suffocated by the 
smoke, the bear came out and climbed 
awkwardly down the tree. 

Taking careful aim. Little Indian let 
fly an arrow, and the bear rolled over 
dead upon the snow. 

It was a hard task to skin him, but 
Little Indian finally finished the job. 
He at once cooked some meat for him- 
self and, after hanging out of reach of 
the wolves what he could not carry, set 
out for the camp. His grandmother at 
once cut some of the meat into thin 
slices and put them in a kettle to stew. 

^‘Well have you hunted, my son,’’ 


38 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


said Big Chief, entering the lodge, ‘‘for 
you have saved your mother’s life.” 
And that night, before Little Indian 
went to sleep, he offered up a prayer of 
thankfulness to the Great Spirit. 


CHAPTER Vn 


NEWS BY SMOKE SIGNALS 

T he camp was all excitement, for 
Big Chief and his warriors were 
about to set out on a war himt. 
They had selected from the herd the 
white and light gray ponies and had put 
on war dress of the plainest white so 
that a group of them would appear in 
the distance like a bank of snow. 

For some time a band of hostile In- 
dians had been hovering near the camp, 
creeping in under cover of the night to 
steal the ponies. 

This had angered Big Chief, and call- 
ing together his braves, he asked for 
volunteers to go out upon the warpath 
to punish the thieving band. 

S9 


40 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


As Big Chief and his devoted war- 
riors departed, Little Indian, who had 
been left behind, wished that he had 
been allowed to go with them. But his 
father’s last words were: 

son, you must remain in camp. 
See that you protect those who remain, 
and when I return, if the Great Spirit 
so wills, I will bring you one of the en- 
emy’s ponies. Watch for our smoke 
signals and you will learn of our com- 
ing and of our success with the enemy.” 

Then Big Chief rode away, followed 
by his brave band of warriors. 

That night, as Little Indian sat by his 
wigwam gazing over the snow-white 
prairie, he saw something blazing 
through the air like a fiery dragonfiy. 

‘^Look, mother! Father is shooting 
his burning arrows for a signal.” 

Blue Water came and stood by her 
son’s side. ^Wes,” she answered, ^^be- 


WHITE FEATHER 


41 


fore he left he smeared his arrows with 
something that will burn easily.” 

“All of them?” asked Little Indian. 

“No, my son; only a few; those which 
he wished to use for signals.” 

“I hope he is not in danger,” said 
Little Indian, as he turned and entered 
his wigwam to sleep until the morning. 

For many days there were anxious 
hearts in the camp. Big Chief did not 
return. But one afternoon, a long dis- 
tance off, a puff of smoke shot up into 
the air. Then in a few minutes another 
followed, and yet another. 

“Father is returning,” cried Little 
Indian, rushing up to his mother. Blue 
Water, to tell her the joyful news. “I 
have seen his smoke signals afar off.” 

Blue Water shaded her eyes and 
looked across the broad prairie. The 
last smoke balloon was slowly fading 
into thin air. 


42 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


‘‘Yes/’ she answered, “he has built a 
fire upon which he has thrown the damp 
grass of the prairie. He has spread his 
many-colored blanket over it, holding 
down the edges to shut in the smoke. 
Then when he lifted the blanket, the 
smoke balloon rose to tell us of his com- 
ing. All is well.” 


CHAPTER Vm 


THE BIG CHIEF BETUENB 

B ig chief and Ms warriors were 
returning to the camp. Little 
Indian and his mother, Blue 
Water, stood on the edge of the prairie 
to welcome them. They could see that 
Big Chief had a long string of ponies. 

“Father has captured many of the 
enemy’s horses,” cried Little Indian. 

“Yes, my son,” replied Blue Water, 
“I can count five. How many do you 
make out?” 

Little Indian looked carefully and 
replied, “Five I see, 0 mother. They 
also have little packs on their hacks.” 

“They are the blankets and war- 
robes of the enemy,” she replied. “You 
shall have a pony and a robe. Your 

iS 


44 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


father promised you a pony and he will 
no doubt give you a robe, also.” 

Presently Big Chief and his band en- 
tered the camp. After they had eaten 
and divided the spoils, Big Chief and 
his band sat around in a circle. Then 
Big Chief arose and told of their adven- 
tures. ^‘We followed the enemy into 
the mountains but found the trail very 
difficult. We were forced to leave our 
ponies and continue the pursuit on foot. 
Finally we lost our way. Coming to the 
edge of a steep cliff, we were forced to 
tie ourselves together in order to reach 
a ridge of rock below. 

Below this lay another ridge. It 
was impossible to climb back, and the 
rocks were too steep for us to climb 
down. It was hundreds of feet to the 
bottom; so far below it lay that we 
could but dimly see it. If we remained 


WHITE FEATHER 


45 


where we were, we would surely starve. 
Then I said: 

^If we stay here, we die. Surely 
the Q-reat Spirit does not wish us to re- 
main like weak women and die like 
dogs ! ’ Then I sang my death song, and 
when I had finished, I went to the edge 
of the cliff and jumped.’ ” 

No sooner had Big Chief finished 
than one of the chiefs arose, and said: 

‘^We waited for a while and then 
went to the edge of the cliff. Far be- 
low we saw the figure of a man waving 
a quiver of arrows. 

‘ ’Tis the soul of our Chief beckon- 
ing us to follow,’ we whispered. Then 
each one in turn sang his death song 
and leaped off. Like swiftly falling ar- 
rows we fell imtil we struck a great 
snowdrift. We sank in so far that we 
had much difficulty in getting out. At 


46 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


last we freed ourselves and found Big 
Chief unharmed. ^ ’ 

Little Indian went over and stood by 
his father. ‘‘Father,’’ he asked in a 
low voice, “were you not afraid when 
you leaped from that great height?” 

“A warrior who feels fear is not 
worthy of the name,” replied Big Chief. 
“The Great Spirit rewarded us by lead- 
ing us to the ponies of our enemy. We 
found them at the foot of the moun- 
tains, but the thieving Indians were no- 
where in sight. Perhaps they were lost 
in the mountain snowdrifts. Who 
knows? If so, ’tis the will of the Great 
Spirit.” 


CHAPTER IX 


LITTLE INDIAN WELCOMES THE SPRING 

H onk, honk, honkl^^ 

’Tis Maga-hota flying to the 
Northland I’’ cried Little Indian. 
‘‘Spring is comtag.’^ 

Blue Water, his mother, looked up at 
the blue sky and smiled. Then she 
turned her attention again to the wam- 
pum strings which she was making. It 
was pretty work stringing the fresh- 
water shells in fancy rows upon a dress. 
Little Indian watched her for some 
time, then walked over to where his 
baby brother, Papoose, lay m his cradle 
of stiff boards, with a hood of skiu to 
shield his face. On the edge of the 
hood dangled beads and birds’ wings, 
which little Papoose played with, 

47 


48 


LITTLE INDIAN STOKIES 


stretching out his small fingers to touch 
them when the gentle spring breezes 
swung them to and fro. 

The cradle was propped up against 
the side of the wigwam so that the little 
Papoose might see all that was going 
on, for Blue Water had little time to 
amuse him, and if he cried, he cried un- 
til he was tired of crying. 

‘^Papoose grow to be big chief some 
day,’’ said Little Indian with a laugh. 
Blue Water laughed, too, for she was 
happy. Spring was coming, and the 
cold winter was almost over. 

It was time, too, for Three Feathers 
and his warriors to leave. All through 
the long, dreary months they had made 
their camp close by. And very grateful 
they were to Big Chief for his invita- 
tion to come and hunt the game with 
him, and to Little Indian, who had led 
them safely to his father’s wigwam. 


WHITE FEATHER 


49 


It seemed a long time since then to 
Little Indian. But he had not forgot- 
ten the Small Dog, who had done him 
so many favors, nor how he had painted 
its face with vermilion to look like a 
fox, and had hunted grouse near their 
camp, bringing back food enough for 
the starving people. 

Mother,’^ said Little Indian, ‘^I 
hear Tate Wiyohpeyata, the West 
Wind, singing in the treetops. And 
only this morning I saw Sisoka, the 
Robin, hopping on the prairie.’’ 

‘‘Come here, my son,” said Blue 
Water, “and I will tell you how Sisoka 
stained his vest a crimson color. 

“Once upon a time Sisoka ’s vest was 
gray and dim of color. ’Twas the time 
when old white Mato dwelt alone in far 
off Northland. He was king of all the 
bears, very cunning, very cruel. Once 
he heard a hunter telling his small son 


50 


LITTLE INDIAN STOEIES 


he must be careful not to let the burn- 
ing fire turn to ashes gray and lifeless. 
So all night the boy kept adding fuel to 
the sulking fire. But, alas! he fell 
dreaming, and the fire smouldered 
dimly. Then old Mato, who was fearful 
of the fire, feared no longer. He was 
just about to seize him, when Sisoka, 
flying thither, fanned the embers into 
flaming, scorched his breast a crimson 
color, but saved the little boy from 
Mato, whom the flames caused untold 
terror. Therefore, children, love Sisoka 
with his vest of crimson color.’’ 


CHAPTER X 


LITTLE INDIAN'S GIFT 

O NE mommg in the b e a u t i - 
ful springtime Little Indian 
made his way into the forest. 
For many days he had hunted but with- 
out success. As he followed the trail up 
the mountain, he came across the nest 
of Siyo, the Grouse. Ever since the day 
she had told him the deer lay hidden in 
the glade he considered her one of his 
best friends. So he did not disturb her 
as she sat on the nest she had made by 
hoUowing out the ground and lining it 
with a few leaves, but passed by si- 
lently until at length he reached the top 
of the mountain. 

Overhead the white clouds lay upon 
the blue deep like swans. The Great 

51 


52 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Sun beamed down with his magic rays, 
sending the sap running up the tree 
trunks and the slender stalks of the 
bluebells. Little Indian lay down be- 
neath the shade of a large tree, and was 
soon asleep. And while he slept he 
dreamed a strange dream. The Old 
White Bear of the Mountain came and 
sat down beside him, saying in a low 
growling voice: ‘‘Little Indian, lend 
me your bow and arrow.’’ 

Timidly Little Indian handed them to 
the Old White Bear who, fitting an ar- 
row to the string, let fly the arrow, but 
his long claw caught in the string and 
spoiled his aim. 

“Why do you not cut off your 
claws,” asked Little Indian, “for then 
you could send the arrow straight to 
the mark?” 

“I shall need my claws for fighting,” 
answered the Old White Bear. 


WHITE FEATHER 


53 


Then he went away, and as he 
climbed up the rocks, a loosened stone 
was set in motion by the pressure of 
his great foot, so that it rolled down 
with a loud noise and awoke Little In- 
dian, who started up from his sleep. 
He looked in vain for the Old White 
Bear, but seeing him nowhere, he re- 
membered his dream. 

‘^Dreams always carry a message,’^ 
said Little Indian to himself. ^‘What 
was the meaning of mine, I wonder?’’ 
And he pondered long as he retraced 
his footsteps. On reaching the camp, 
he went to find his old grandmother. 
She had told him many stories and leg- 
ends, so he recounted his dream to her. 
And when he had finished, he said: 

^‘Tell me, 0 Grandmother, the mean- 
ing of my dream?” 

The old squaw smiled and answered: 

‘'The Great Spirit has given all the 


54 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


animals weapons. To Sunktokeca, the 
Wolf, he gave long sharp teeth. To 
Mato, the Bear, great claws. To Tam- 
doska, the Deer, sharp-pointed antlers. 
To Tatanka, the Buffalo, great, heavy 
hoofs to trample his enemies underfoot. 
To Huya, the Eagle, sharp talons 
and a strong beak. No weapons made 
by hand did he give to them. There- 
fore they have no right to use any other 
than those he gave them.” 

‘‘What did the Great Spirit give 
me?” asked Little Indian. 

“The power to make your own weap- 
ons,” answered the old squaw, “and 
with the command to kill the animals 
for food only or, in self-defense.” 


CHAPTER XI 


THE WHITE EEATHEE 

O NE day Big Chief came to Little 
Indian, and laying his hand upon 
his shoulder, said in a kind voice, 
‘‘My son, it is time for you to become a 
warrior. Go and fast. Alone you must 
remain until in your dreams the Good 
Manito, the Master of Life, commands 
you what to do. Go and fast, and when 
you return you shall recount your 
dream, and describe the bird or animal 
which you have seen.’^ 

Silently Little Indian left the camp 
and made his way into the forest. Far 
into the shady depths he went until he 
came to a large oak tree, under which 
he lay down to fast. 

55 


56 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Wearily passed the day and night, 
and hungry grew the Indian boy. But 
still no dream came to him. At length 
on the fifth night, as he was wearily 
tossing on his bed of leaves, moaning 
with the pangs of hunger, he dreamed 
of Wakiyedan, the Pigeon. White as a 
snowflake it was, except its breast, 
which was as blue as the heavens. 

Little Indian awoke and slowly re- 
traced his steps to the wigwam of his 
father. When he reached the camp, 
weak and weary. Big Chief, Blue 
Water, his mother, and all his kindred 
gathered about him to hear his dream. 
No one spoke, but each listened in- 
tently while he told his tale. Then they 
gave him food and drink. 

Soon after he took his bow and quiver 
of arrows and set out to kill the pigeon, 
for this was to be his medicine, his 


WHITE FEATHER 


57 


‘^good-luck/’ his strength in battle, and 
his guide after death to the beautiful 
hunting grounds. No warrior ever goes 
into battle without his medicine bag, 
and Little Indian knew he must find a 
pigeon in order to satisfy the custom of 
his tribe and be entitled to a place 
among the warriors. 

As he entered the forest, he remem- 
bered his dream of many moons ago in 
which the strange voice bade him go 
into the woods to find the Man of Wood. 
Bending his steps toward the clearing, 
he came to the tree whose trunk was 
carved in the form of a man. Sitting 
down beside it, he waited for an omen. 
Presently a voice cried: ‘‘0 Little In- 
dian, fulfill your dreams. Take your 
pipe and fill it, and as before, the smoke 
will turn to snow-white pigeons, — all 
but one, which will have a blue breast. 


58 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Shoot it with your sharpest arrow and 
from its wing pluck a feather and place 
it in your hair. Then shall your tribe 
call you ‘Wearer of the White 
Feather.’ ” 

Little Indian did as he was bid, and 
from the smoke that arose from his pipe 
flew forth a flock of pigeons, one with a 
breast as blue as the sky. At this one 
Little Indian aimed an arrow. And 
when it fell to the ground he picked it 
up and carried it to his wigwam. 

The next day when cleaned and the 
skin with all its bright feathers well 
dried in the sim, it was hung in his wig- 
wam forever to be his “medicine bag.” 

“Did I not tell you long ago,” said 
his old grandmother, “that some day 
you would be called the ‘Wearer of the 
White Feather?’ Do you not remem- 
ber telling me your first dream and 


WHITE FEATHER 


59 


then again of the pipe whose smoke 
turned into pigeons?’’ 

‘^Yes,” answered Little Indian sol- 
emnly; remember!” 


CHAPTER Xn 


THE FIRST WAR JOURNEY 

L ittle Indian was going out 
upon his first war journey. The 
sun was just coming up over the 
hilltops, and Tate Wiyohiyanpa, the 
East Wind, was gently swaying the 
trees and grasses. The tribe stood 
around about him while he mounted his 
favorite pony. Little Indian required 
no saddle or bridle; he was too skillful 
a rider for that. A lariat twisted about 
his pony’s lower jaw was all he needed 
in the shape of reins. But this was not 
its only decoration; its mane and tail 
were braided with hawk feathers, the 
very same feathers which Little Indian 
had stripped from the cruel hawk from 
60 


WHITE FEATHER 


61 


whom he had saved his faithful friend 
Hinakaja, the Owl. 

Around his waist Little Indian wore 
a rawhide belt, fastened to which was 
his knife sheath and a small bag of 
dried meat. He carried his bow and ar- 
rows on his neck, the latter held in an 
otterskin case. His braided scalp-lock 
on the top of his head was fastened with 
an eagle feather. Big Chief stood by 
admiring his son, thinking of the day 
when he had first started out in like 
manner. Great care had been taken in 
selecting the best pony as well as the 
weapon the yoimg Indian carried so 
proudly. The buffalo-hide war shield 
was a great protection against the ar- 
rows of the enemy. Little Indian 
paused by the side of his pony before 
mounting. Blue Water gazed at him 
with the loving eyes of a mother, while 
his grandmother, the old squaw who 


62 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


had told him so many legends of his 
people, came forward and handed him 
a buffalo robe and several pairs of moc- 
casins which she had made herself. 

Little Indian was now fourteen, tall 
for his age, with hard, seasoned 
muscles. Like all Indians he carried 
himself with great dignity, and espe- 
cially so on this occasion, for was it not 
his first departure upon a war journey? 
And this was a most momentous occa- 
sion, for the task had been entrusted to 
him, as the son of the Big Chief, to re- 
cover a Medicine trophy which had 
been stolen by a Blackfoot Indian from 
the Medicine Lodge. 

Silently he mounted his pony and 
rode away. It was no easy task which 
had been allotted to him. To go into 
the heart of the enemy’s country and 
retake the long stolen trophy was 
fraught with great danger. But Little 


WHITE FEATHER 


63 


Indian did not hesitate; in fact, he glor- 
ied in the chance to show his bravery 
and skill although he made no outward 
sign of satisfaction. 

It was in the springtime of the year 
and the flowers were smiling under the 
morning sun. Toward evening he saw 
a small herd of antelopes. Quickly dis- 
moxmting, he hobbled his pony and 
then crawled toward a small clump of 
bushes. It was impossible to approach 
nearer without being seen. Presently, 
to his delight, they drew closer, and, 
taking careful aim, he shot the fore- 
most buck. He now had fresh meat for 
his supper, and very soon his campfire 
was lighted and he was prepared to 
spend his first night alone on the 
prairie. 


CHAPTER Xni 


THE WOODPECKEE'S SECEET 

F or many days Little Indian 
traveled over the broad prairie, 
his willing little mustang carry- 
ing him without faltering. There was 
plenty of game to be had, and Little In- 
dian had no cause to fear for lack of 
food. Neither did he see any hostile 
Indians. So far all had gone well. 

Toward nightfall he came to a 
wooded belt fringed on one side of the 
great prairie. Entering the wood for a 
short distance, he pitched his camp for 
the night. In the west the great sun 
was slowly sinking to rest. The swal- 
lows were flying low in the air and the 
perfume of the wild flowers came down 
the evening breeze. 

C4 


WHITE FEATHER 


65 


As Little Indian sat quietly by his 
fire eating his simple supper he heard a 
slight noise. Turning his eyes toward 
an old tree, many of whose branches 
were so covered with moss that they 
seemed hardly a part of the withered 
trunk, he saw Hitunkasan, the Weasel, 
creeping stealthily up one of the dead 
limbs. Up and up he climbed until he 
reached an opening. But no sooner had 
he peeped inside than he turned tail and 
ran swiftly down the old tree, scurry- 
ing away into the depths of the woods. 
At the same moment, a sharp noise that 
sounded like ^^Whee-ree! Whee-reel’^ 
came from the dark cavity, and Kan- 
ketanka, the Woodpecker, flew out. 

‘‘Tell me, 0 Little Indian,’’ she cried, 
“whither went the cruel Hitunkasan?” 

“He has fled into the woods,” replied 
Little Indian. “Did he try to rob your 
nest, 0 Kanketanka?” 


66 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

was the sight of the snake skin 
that frightened him/’ replied the wood- 
pecker. ’Twas lucky that my mate 
found Wanduska’s old skin, the one 
thing the wicked Hitunkasan fears.” 

‘‘Ha, ha!” laughed Little Indian. 
“Does Hitunkasan fear an old skin? 
He is a brave Weasel warrior!” 

“Softly, softly, 0 Little Indian,” re- 
plied Kanketanka, “lest he hear you. 
He thinks it is Wanduska himself.” 

Little Indian hushed his laughter and 
replied, “Have no further fear, for Hit- 
unkasan is deep within the woods. No 
doubt he is still running away.” 

“ ’Tis well,” replied the woodpecker, 
smoothing her feathers. “This placing 
of a snake skin, interwoven in our 
nests, is a secret which we have learned 
from our ancestors. It is also a great 
protection from Zica, the Red Squir- 
rel, and Uncisicedan, the Crow, for the}^' 


WHITE FEATHER 


67 


also love to rob our nests. My father 
taught me this simple trick, and he 
learned it from his grandfather. I tell 
it to you, 0 Little Indian, for you hold 
in respect the forest law to kill only for 
food and for protection.’’ 

will keep your secret,” replied 
Little Indian quietly. 


CHAPTER XIV 


THE RABBIT ADVISES LITTLE INDIAN 

H AXYETUWI, the Moon, was 
high in the heavens when Little 
Indian was awakened by a 
strange thump, thump, thump! Quietly 
sitting up, he peered about him to dis- 
cover what was the cause of this 
strange sound. His eyes fell upon a 
pile of brushwood which had evidently 
been heaped together by the winter 
winds blowing across the prairie. 
Twining in and out and over it was a 
tangle of wild vines. Prom beneath 
this rude shelter came a number of wild 
rabbits. Every now and then one 
would stop and thump the groimd with 
his hind feet. 


68 


WHITE FEATHER 


69 


One old gray rabbit, on seeing Little 
Indian, left the rest and came over to 
where he sat. 

‘'Good evening, venerable Mas- 
tinca!’’ cried Little Indian. ‘‘Will I 
disturb your tribe if I watch their 
moonlight dance 

“Not at all,’’ replied the old rabbit. 
“I will rest here with you and keep 
watch. Pisko, the Night Hawk, is 
ever on the alert to seize one of us in his 
claws. I will stay here and give the 
warning should he approach. It takes 
keen eyes to see him for he makes no 
noise; he sails by as silent as a ghost.” 

Soon all the little rabbits began their 
moonlight dance. Paster and faster 
they spun aroimd, until they looked 
like the balls of thistledown that float 
about in the Indian summer. 

“0 Venerable Mastinca!” asked 
Little Indian, “can you tell me how far 


70 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

from here lies the camp of Two Moons, 
the great Blackfoot chief?’’ 

The old rabbit paused before he an- 
swered. ’Tis not so far,” he replied. 
‘^It is beyond the Dwelling Places of 
the Evil Spirits. Through this gloomy 
land you must make your way. I have 
heard that the Evil People have emp- 
tied all the springs, burned the prairie 
grass and killed the game.” 

‘‘Is there no other trail by which I 
may reach the Blackfoot camp save 
through this dismal country?” asked 
Little Indian. 

“None,” replied the old rabbit, “for 
it spreads out directly in your path.” 

“Then I will travel through it,” said 
Little Indian in a firm voice, “for Big 
Chief, my father, has sent me on this 
errand and I would not have him know 
that his son was weak of heart.” 

“Then let me give you good counsel,” 


WHITE FEATHER 


71 


said the old rabbit. ‘^See that you take 
plenty of dried meat; also much water, 
for your tongue will cry for water and 
there will be no spring in which you 
may quench your thirst.’’ 

will follow your advice,” replied 
Little Indian, ‘‘and tomorrow I will 
prepare for my perilous journey 
through the Land of the Evil Spirits.” 


CHAPTER XV 


LITTLE INDIAN PEESSES FOEWAED 

W HEN Little Indian awoke tlie 
next morning he pondered 
deeply over what Mastinca, the 
old rabbit, had told him. It was indeed 
a dangerous journey through the Land 
of the Evil Spirits. Yet there was no 
fear in the heart of the little Indian lad, 
only a grim determination that he 
would follow out the wishes of his 
father and bring back the stolen Medi- 
cine Trophy from the Blackfeet. 

At once he set about to procure a 
sufficient quantity of buffalo meat, and 
to make the necessary water bags from 
the buffalo hides in order to carry a 
good supply of water with him. For 

72 


WHITE FEATHER 


73 


otherwise he knew he would never be 
able to cross the barren land that lay 
between him and the camp of Two 
Moons, chief of the Indians who had 
stolen the Medicine Trophy from the 
lodge in his father’s camp. 

There were numerous buffaloes scat- 
tered over the prairie and before night- 
fall Little Indian had killed two. 

It took him all the next day to make 
the water bags and prepare the buffalo 
meat by cutting it into thin strips to 
dry in the sun. Finally, when every- 
thing was ready, he started upon his 
Journey, offering up a prayer to the 
Great Spirit for aid in his perilous 
mission. 

It was early morning. Anpao 
Wicanhpi, the Morning Star, was look- 
ing down from the high heavens. Lit- 
tle Indian mounted his mustang. On 
either side of the faithful little beast 


74 


LITTLE INDIAN STOEIES 


hung a well-filled water bag, also a sup- 
ply of fresh grass. 

As the day wore on, Little Indian 
noticed a great change in the appear- 
ance of the prairie. The tall waving 
grass gave way to a stretch of dry sage. 
Gradually that disappeared and the 
plain became a desert. Toward night- 
fall he found himself entering a waste 
of rock and sand stretching away as far 
as the eye could reach. Great rocks 
worn with storms of ages reared their 
forbidding forms across his path. Little 
Indian’s heart was filled with dread. It 
seemed as if an evil spell lay upon the 
land. 

‘^It is indeed the Country of the Evil 
Spirits,” he whispered. ‘‘Wakansica, 
the Evil Spirit, has built himself a lodge 
and his Evil People dwell in the caves 
among the rocks.” 

Dismounting, he gave his pony some 



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WHITE FEATHER 


75 


water and a small supply of grass. Soon 
great shadows crept out from behind 
the rocks and night came silently down 
upon the barren waste. Little Indian 
lay down and folded his blanket about 
him. But he could not sleep. Even the 
mustang was restless and whinnied in a 
frightened manner, pushing his muzzle 
against his master ^s hand for sym- 
pathy. 


CHAPTER XVI 


SAFE ACEOSS THE DESEET 

I T was barely daylight when Little 
Indian arose and made ready to re- 
sume his journey. Carefully 
measuring out a small supply of water 
and grass for his pony, he ate his 
meager breakfast as quickly as pos- 
sible. Then mounting his mustang, he 
guided him as best he could over the 
rough and sandy desert. 

Toward noon of the third day both 
he and the faithful little animal were 
parched with thirst. There was but 
little water, and the supply of grass 
was nearly exhausted. He still had 
plenty of dried meat, but where to find 
water troubled him greatly. Without 

76 


WHITE FEATHER 


77 


it he knew that he and the mustang 
would never be able to reach their des- 
tination. How much further the desert 
lay before him he could not tell. Still 
he kept manfully on. 

Soon night came and he was forced 
to camp again upon the hot sands of the 
desert. The next day found him weak 
and weary. Even the mustang seemed 
to have lost his spirit and dragged him- 
self along at a slow rate. Little Indian 
dismounted and walked by his side. 
The water was now entirely gone, and 
if he did not come across a spring in a 
short time he knew that both must per- 
ish in the wilderness. 

^‘My throat is filled with fire,” Little 
Indian muttered to himself. 

As if in answer to his cry of despair, 
his pony raised his nose in the air and 
whmnied. Then he trotted weakly to- 
ward the south. 


78 


LITTLE INDIAN STOKIES 


Little Indian followed and in a short 
time the clever little animal brought 
him to a large pool beneath an over- 
hanging rocky ledge. After drinking 
deeply, Little Indian filled the water 
bags and refreshed and encouraged, he 
mounted his pony and rode off at a 
faster pace. At last he saw in the dis- 
tance the border of a verdant prairie. 
The pony, too, seemed to know that 
they were approaching a country where 
the grass grew tall and sweet. His pace 
quickened to a gallop and soon the Land 
of the Evil Spirits was left behind. 

Tethering his pony so that he might 
eat the sweet grass. Little Indian 
looked about him. A covey of prairie 
grouse suddenly rose before him and 
sailed away, but not before he killed 
one with a well directed shot. 

Ah,’’ cried Little Indian, again my 
heart is singing, for the Great Spirit 


WHITE FEATHER 


79 


has brought me safely through the Evil 
Land to a smiling country/^ 

There was a cluster of trees a short 
distance away and leading his pony 
thither, Little Indian made ready to 
camp for the night. Building a small 
fire of very dry wood in order to avoid 
the telltale smoke as much as possible, 
in case he might be near the camp of his 
enemies, he cooked his supper and then 
lay down to sleep. 


CHAPTER XVn 


THE CAMP OF TWO MOONS 

I T was midnight when Little Indian 
awoke. The snapping of a dry 
twig caused him to seize his bow 
and arrows. Peering into the darkness, 
he saw two gleaming lights. 

As he raised his bow to defend him- 
self, feeling certain they were the eyes 
of some wild animal, he heard a voice 
from the darkness: 

‘^Turn aside your arrow, 0 Little In- 
dian. ’Tis Inmutanka, the Lynx. He 
comes not to harm you but to bring 
good tidings.” 

Little Indian laid aside his bow and 
replied, ‘^Tell me, 0 stealthy Inmu- 
tanka, what is your message? I have 
80 


WHITE FEATHER 


81 


heard of you from the Great Beaver, 
white with snows of many winters.” 

‘‘I know well your errand and would 
help you,” replied the Lynx. ‘^Not 
many arrows’ flight from here lies the 
camp of Two Moons. In the center of 
the village, in the Great Medicine 
Lodge, is hidden the Trophy which you 
seek. I have seen it with my own eyes 
when all the warriors were sleeping. 
Their dogs have lost their cunning, for 
I was well on my way with a piece of 
venison before they awoke to scent the 
trail of my crafty footsteps!” 

‘‘Many thanks, 0 kind Inmutanka,” 
replied Little Indian. “Tomorrow will 
I locate the camp and make my plans. 
May the day come when I can render 
aid to you.” 

“Say no more,” replied the Lynx, 
“but close your eyes and sleep, for you 
will need all your cunning to regain the 


82 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


stolen Trophy, and you are yet weary 
with your journey.’’ 

‘^You speah true words,” answered 
Little Indian. ‘‘I will follow your 
counsel,” and he wrapped his blanket 
about him and lay down to sleep. 

It was not an easy matter to ap- 
proach the camp of Two Moons, as 
Little Indian found out the next day 
when he attempted to get close enough 
to locate the Medicine Lodge. He had 
left his mustang behind in the grove of 
trees, feeling that on foot he was safer 
in case he had to hide suddenly. At 
last he dared go no further until dark- 
ness came on to hide him from the 
sharp eyes of the enemy. Finally he 
felt the hour had arrived. Dropping to 
his hands and knees, he crawled from 
rock to rock until he reached the edge 
of the grove in which Two Moons had 
pitched his camp. Here he paused 


WHITE FEATHER 


83 


again. The campfires were still burn- 
ing, although not so brightly, and he 
knew that many of the Blackfeet had 
not yet gone to their lodges. What he 
most feared were the dogs. For some 
time after their masters had gone to 
sleep they would prowl about the camp 
himting for bones. Until the dogs be- 
came quiet, Little Indian knew that he 
must lie patiently where he was and 
wait, for to be discovered meant cap- 
ture and certain death. 

When finally the Indian village grew 
quiet, Little Indian arose and crept 
silently forward. Sustained by the in- 
herited courage of his people, he en- 
tered upon his dangerous errand with a 
brave heart. His thoughts for a mo- 
ment turned back to his own tribe. No 
doubt by this time his mother. Blue 
Water, lay in peaceful slumber. Per- 
haps she was dreaming of him, far away 


84 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


in a hostile country. He quickly put 
aside these thoughts, for the moment 
was too full of danger to indulge in 
them. He was determined to fulfill the 
mission on which he had been sent by 
his father, Big Chief. For many moons 
his people had chafed at the thought 
that their Medicine Trophy lay in a 
lodge of the hostile Blackfeet. Its re- 
covery would mean fame for Little In- 
dian, and the right to take his place 
among the warriors of his own tribe. 
Grasping his long knife tightly in his 
teeth, he crawled carefully along, stop- 
ping now and again to listen for the 
bark of a wary dog. But no sound 
came to his anxious ear. 

Gradually he worked his way 
through the outskirts of the silent vil- 
lage. All was quiet, and he advanced 
still further, until to his relief he saw 
the dim outlines of the Great Medi- 


WHITE FEATHER 


85 


cine Lodge looming up before him. 

He stood up in the shadow of a 
large tree and called upon the Great 
Spirit to aid him in his perilous under- 
taking. Then he sank again to his 
knees and crawled forward toward the 
lodge. As he neared it he rose to his 
feet and swiftly but silently he ap- 
proached the entrance. With one hasty 
look he glanced about him, and then, 
drawing aside the buffalo robe, entered. 
Groping his way about in the darkness, 
he ran his hand over the poles that sup- 
ported the roof. At last, when he had 
all but given up in despair, his fingers 
encountered the bracelet of shells which 
had been stolen from his tribe. It was 
only the work of a moment to free it 
from the pole on which it was hung. 
With his heart beating almost to suffo- 
cation he hurried out. Softly retracing 
his steps he entered the corral in which 


86 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


were herded the fast war ponies. Af- 
ter a moment’s hesitation he entered, 
and, selecting the finest, with an exult- 
ant yell he drove out the rest in wild 
confusion. In a moment the camp was 
a scene of savage uproar. Shadowy 
forms rushed hither and thither, but 
Little Indian was far away before the 
frightened ponies were caught. Stop- 
ping only for a moment at the clump of 
trees to seize hold of the tether of his 
own faithful little mustang, he galloped 
away across the prairie. Tightly 
grasped in his left hand was the brace- 
let of shells, which would bring him 
fame and a place among the great war- 
riors of his own tribe. 


CHAPTER XVm 

LITTLE INDIAN IS WAENED 

T he Great Spirit has indeed been 
with you,” cried Blue Water, as 
she folded her arms about Little 
Indian. 

The entire tribe was glad at his re- 
turn; all but one. White Otter alone 
wore a frown. In him Little Indian 
had an enemy, and a bitter one, for had 
not Little Indian humiliated him before 
the tribe during the buffalo hunt ? And 
had not Little Indian sent him home 
weaponless, like a squaw? 

Hinakaja, the Owl, had watched 
White Otter since his return to the 
camp alone on his pony, without 

87 


88 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


weapon and robe. The wise Owl had 
many friends and the Forest Folk are 
quick to spread news. They had been 
told how White Otter had followed Lit- 
tle Indian across the prairie with the 
intention of doing him bodily harm, and 
how he had been outwitted and sent 
home disgraced. 

“Beware of White Otter,” said the 
Owl, looking at Little Indian with his 
great round eyes. “He wiU not rest 
until he harms you.” 

Little Indian gave a grunt like an old 
warrior. 

“I fear him not, for he is a coward 
and a sneak.” 

“The more reason, 0 Little Indian,” 
replied the wise Owl. “He will not 
fight you in the open, but wiU use un- 
fair means to harm you.” 

Little Indian grew thoughtful. “I 
will keep my eyes open, O Hinakaja.” 


WHITE FEATHER 


89 


Then the bird flew away to the dark 
forest, and Little Indian wrapped him- 
self in his blanket and lay down to 
pleasant dreams. 

Through the trees and the dying 
reeds on the river bank the cool north 
wind uttered a melancholy note. The 
stars glittered afar off in the dark blue 
heaven and the Milky Way, the Path- 
way of the Grhosts, glimmered in its sil- 
very whiteness. 

Hinakaja sailed over the prairie as 
silently as a ghost. His large round 
eyes looked in at Little Indian peace- 
fully sleeping in his tepee. Hovering 
over the quiet camp, he peered in at 
White Otter. Sleep had not come to his 
eyes. He lay wrapped in his blanket, 
wide awake, planning how to defeat 
Little Indian. Little did he think that 
he was being watched. 


90 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


^^Evil one/’ muttered Hinakaja, 
will act as sentinel tonight lest harm 
befall Little Indian.” 


CHAPTER XIX 


A FEIENDLY COUNCIL 


W HITE OTTER was now more 
envious of Little Indian than 
ever. He hated him because he 
had brought back the Medicine Trophy, 
the Great Bracelet of Shells. He hated 
him, too, because his heart stiU rankled 
with the thought that it was Little In- 
dian who had punished him on the day 
of the buffalo hunt when he had tried 
to sneak ahead of the warriors and kill 
the first buffalo. Neither had he for- 
given him for having sent him back to 
the camp without robe and weapon. 

He had tried to turn the animals 
against him, but had not been very suc- 
cessful; only a few would listen to him. 
Of course Wanduska, the Snake, lent a 

91 


92 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


willing ear, and Zica, the spiteful 
Red Squirrel. But the rest of the 
Prairie and Forest Folk refused to 
listen to White Otter. Moreover, they 
took counsel together as to how they 
should help Little Indian. 

Sisoka, the Robin, was most indig- 
nant. “I have not forgotten, 0 
brothers, how Little Indian saved my 
blue eggs from the thieving Zica.” 

“Now we know why he sides with 
Little Elk,” cried the Forest Folk. 

“And I shall never forget how he 
saved one of my little ones from Wan- 
duska,” cried Wajioji, the Wood 
Thrush, flying down from her nest in a 
bushy fir tree that was not much larger 
than a currant bush. 

“You should build your nest high 
above the earth,” said Uncisicedan, the 
Crow. “ Do I not build mine in the tall- 
est pine tree?” 


WHITE FEATHER 


93 


‘‘Let US hold a council/’ suggested 
Mastinca, the Rabbit, turning to Wica, 
the Raccoon. “Do you call together all 
the four-footed Brothers of the Forest 
and we will talk the matter over. We 
may be able to help our little red- 
skinned brother.” 

“Then let us ask Kanketanka, the 
Woodpecker, to sound his drum-call so 
that all the Forest People may Imow 
that they are summoned to a council,” 
cried Zitkatanka, the Blackbird. 

“Someone must find him, for we may 
not wait. Every moment is now pre- 
cious,” cried Mastinca, the big Rabbit. 
“I will go find him. I think he has his 
lodge in the old dead tree by the moun- 
tain trail.” 


CHAPTER XX 


LITTLE INDIAN IS TO BE PEOTECTED 

W HEN Mastinca, the big Rabbit, 
arrived at the old dead tree 
close to the mountain trail, he 
looked up to see whether Kanketanka 
was in his lodge. Sure enough, there 
he was. As soon as he saw Mastinca 
he began a loud ‘‘rat, a tat, tat,” using 
the dead branch for a drum. 

“Cease your drumming,” cried Mas- 
tinca, “and give ear to what I would 
say to you,” and he told Kanketanka, 
the Woodpecker, what the Forest Folk 
wished him to do. “Tomorrow morn- 
ing early you must sound the drum-call, 
so that all the animals and birds may 
hear it and come to the Great Council.” 
“I will do as you ask me,” replied 

94 


WHITE FEATHER 


95 


Kanketanka. ‘‘For our little red- 
skinned brother I will drum my loud- 
est. No one in the forest or upon the 
pleasant prairie shall ever say my drum 
beats did not call him to the council.’’ 

^‘Well said,” replied Mastinca, ‘‘and 
should you need another drummer call 
upon me early, and I will come to help 
you.” As he finished speaking, Mas- 
tinca stamped with his hind feet upon 
the ground, thump! thump! thump! 

“That is our signal. When danger 
threatens, one of us sounds the call and 
we all run to cover.” 

Early the next morning Kanketanka 
sounded his drum-call loud and strong. 
From the forest and the prairie came 
the animals and birds. And when they 
were all assembled in a half circle, they 
talked for a long time. And afterward 
everyone promised to do his best to aid 
Little Indian. 


96 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


To Zitkato, the Bluebird, was given 
the duty of messenger, for she was so 
swift of wing. 

^^You shall bear the messages to Lit- 
tle Indian that will warn him of 
danger,’’ said Mastinca, the Rabbit. 
^ ^Whoever shall discover that White 
Otter is on mischief bent shall at once 
inform Zitkato, who will fly swiftly to 
put Little Indian on his guard.” 

^^Let us also keep a sharp eye on 
Wanduska, the Blacksnake,” cried Zit- 
katanka, the Blackbird, ‘^for he is in 
league with White Otter.” 

‘‘Also on Zica, the Red Squirrel,” 
said Sisoka, the Robin, “ ’twas only 
yesterday I saw him talking with 
White Otter.” 

“Alas,” cried Wajioji, the gentle 
Wood Thrush, “that any of the Forest 
Folk should be so wicked as to wish 
harm to Little Indian!” 




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WHITE FEATHER 


97 


‘^They are few in number, 0 gentle 
Wajioji,’^ said Tanagidan, the Hum- 
ming Bird. ‘^His friends are many; 
they can not be numbered. But his 
enemies are counted upon the toes of 
my foot.” 


CHAPTER XXI 


WHITE OTTER HAS VISITORS 

N OW when Wanduska, the Blaek- 
snake, and Zica, the Red 
Squirrel, learned that the Forest 
Folk had held a council at which they 
had planned means to protect Little In- 
dian, they at once set out for White 
Otter’s lodge. 

Wanduska glided along the earth 
while Zica sprang from tree to tree. 
At length they came near to where 
White Otter had pitched his wigwam. 
It was much nearer the forest than 
were the wigwams of the other braves, 
for he who has evil in his heart would 
rather be alone in order to escape the 
eyes of his brothers more easUy. 

98 


WHITE FEATHER 


99 


^‘Now do you creep into his wig- 
wam/’ said Zica from his treetop. 

Glide through the grasses, 0 slippery 
Wanduska.” 

Wanduska, however, was careful as 
well as crafty. Neither did he enjoy 
being the one to brave all danger. 

‘^Why do you not climb down and 
creep to his wigwam 

‘^Coward!” cried Zica, chattering 
fiercely from his treetop. ‘‘You are 
very slim and agile, and between the 
stalks of grasses you can glide without 
a murmur; you will never be discovered 
by the eye of Little Indian!” 

But Wanduska would not be flattered 
into going alone to White Otter’s wig- 
wam. Zica, perceiving this, came down 
from his tree, chattering crossly all the 
while. 

“Bah!” he exclaimed on reaching the 


100 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


ground. “ ‘He travels tlie faster who 
travels alone.’ ” 

“Then why don’t you carry the mes- 
sage to White Otter? I will wait for 
you here,” answered Wanduska with a 
wicked gleam in his small eyes. 

“Oh, come along then!” replied Ziea. 
“I win go with you and see that no one 
steps on your cowardly head.” 

“Have a care how you speak!” said 
Wanduska, with a hiss. “Have a care, 
you red-headed chatterbox.” 

Zica, seeing that the Blacksnake was 
angry, decided it were wiser to say 
nothing further. The two then crept 
stealthily forv^ard, Wanduska gliding 
silently through the grasses, while Zica 
crept on tiptoe close by his side. 

“What’s that?” cried Zica, his teeth 
chattering with fear. 

“’Twas the song of an arrow as it 
sped above the grass tops,” answered 


WHITE FEATHER 


101 


Wanduska, wriggling in swift curves 
along the earth to avoid being hit. 

Zica’s teeth chattered. ‘‘Who is the 
coward now?’’ asked Wanduska. The 
Red Squirrel made no reply, for at that 
moment they found themselves close to 
White Otter’s wigwam, into which they 
glided lil^e two shadows. 

White Otter sat alone in his wigwam. 
His thoughts were evil ones, for he was 
planning to harm Little Indian. As if 
in answer to his wicked thoughts, Wan- 
duska and Zica stood before him. A 
cruel gleam was in the eyes of the 
Blacksnake and the teeth of the crafty 
Red Squirrel gleamed in the dusk of 
the wigwam. 

“Welcome, 0 my brothers!” cried 
White Otter. 

“We have news for you, O red- 
skinned brother!” hissed Wanduska in 
a whisper. 


102 


LITTLE INDIAN STOEIES 


“From the council, where we lis- 
tened, we have come to bring you tid- 
ings,” cried Ziea. 

“The three of us are more cunning 
than all the others put together,” said 
White Otter after listening to their 
story. “What care we if Tuhmaja, the 
Bee, has a sting ? WiU that protect Lit- 
tle Indian from us? Are we afraid of 
Mastiuca, or the kick of his hind foot? 
We do not fear bees and rabbits.” 

“You speak wisely,” said Zica, 
but Wanduska said nothiag. He v/as 
too wise to boast. Then White Otter 
turned to him, saying in a low voice, 
“I would teach the son of Big Chief 
something that he wUl not relish.” 

“Let us dig a pit beneath the trail, 
and then summon him to the forest to a 
council of the wild folk,” said Wan- 
duska. “No one then will be the wiser 
as to how the harm befell him.” 


WHITE FEATHER 


103 


^‘Yes, your plan is good and wisely 
have you spoken, 0 Wanduska!^^ cried 
White Otter. ^‘Lead me with you to 
the forest and I wull dig the pit into 
which shall fall Little Indian.’^ 

SUently the three plotters stole from 
the wigwam. It took the Blacksnake 
but a few moments to regain the depths 
of the great forest. The Squirrel was 
not far behind, but White Otter had to 
hurry to keep within sight of his two 
small comrades. 

‘‘Why do you run, and why so fast?’’ 
he asked angrily, coming up breathless 
to the spot where they stood waiting 
for him. “Did you think the Evil 
Spirits were in pursuit?” 

“No,” answered Wanduska shortly, 
“but the forest is a safer place than the 
wigwam of an Indian.” 

Zica was high in the treetop, chatter- 
ing away angril}^ 


104 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


^‘Did you wish to have us on either 
side of you, 0 brave White Otter?” he 
asked sarcastically. 

‘^Silence!’’ he cried. ‘‘^Tis no time 
for bandying words. Let us get to 
work at once.’^ 

It was long into the night before the 
pit was dug, and the three were weary 
and sleepy. 

‘‘You arrange to summon Little In- 
dian,” said White Otter to Wanduska, 
as the three separated imtil the next 
day. 


CHAPTER XXn 


LITTLE INDIAN IS A PEISONEB 

W ANDUSKA, the Snake, was too 
wise to go direct to Little In- 
dian for he knew that this 
would make the young brave suspi- 
cious. So he hid himself near the trail 
and waited until such time as Little In- 
dian would pass that way. This made 
White Otter impatient and he chaffed 
Wanduska, saying, you fear to go 
to his wigwam?’’ 

‘‘No, O Little Boaster,” retorted 
Wanduska, “but would you have me 
put him on his guard? He will wonder 
why I come to summon him to the for- 
est. Then, if he slip into the pit he will 
know the reason. Have patience 1” 

105 


106 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Early one morning Little Indian 
went up the trail through the forest. 
The Red Squirrel who was on the look- 
out, darted off to inform Wanduska. 
The latter was lying in wait near the 
great pit which had been carefully 
covered over with branches and moss. 

‘^Wanduska! Wanduska!’’ called 
Zica. ^ ^ He is coming ! He is coming ! ’ ’ 
Softly, softly. Chatterbox!” replied 
Wanduska. ^^Tate Wiyohpeyata will 
carry your words to him.” 

^^The West Wind is busy on the 
prairie,” replied Zica. ‘‘He is not 
listening!” 

At that moment the soft footfall of 
moccasins came to their ears. Zica hid 
in a hollow in the tree and Wanduska 
crept into his hole. 

Slowly up the trail came Little In- 
dian, imconscious of the danger that lay 


WHITE FEATHER 


107 


before him, for the pit had been covered 
so cleverly with branches, moss and 
leaves as to leave no trace of the great 
hollow underneath. Zica peered out ex- 
pectantly, but Wanduska waited for 
the sound of breaking branches. Down 
went Little Indian with a crash to the 
bottom of the great pit. He gave no 
outcry as he felt the earth give way, 
but closed his eyes to avoid the flying 
dirt. Luckily he landed on his feet and 
as he looked up he saw Zica bending 
over the edge. 

^^Zica, Zica!’^ he shouted, but no an- 
swer came, for the cruel Zica has dis- 
appeared. 

Wanduska came out from his hiding 
place as the Red Squirrel darted away. 

Foolish one to let him see you!’’ he 
hissed angrily. ^^You are as curious as 
a woman!” 


108 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Perhaps he did not see me/’ re- 
plied Zica. 

^^Then why did he call your name?” 
asked the Blacksnake. 

The Red Squirrel looked foolish. 
^^Do not flatter yourself that you es- 
caped his quick eye,” continued Wan- 
duska. ‘‘He that flatters himself flat- 
ters a fooll” 


CHAPTER XXm 


HIS FEIENDS PLAN HIS ESCAPE 

T he news of Little Indian’s 
danger soon spread through the 
forest. Another Council was 
called, at which all the birds and ani- 
mals were present. 

^^Alas!” cried Tamdoska, the Deer, 
who had once given him a rattle as a 
token of swiftness, ‘‘of what use is 
swiftness to him who is imprisoned in 
a pit!” 

Then Huya, the Eagle, flapped his 
great wings and cried, “Of what use 
are the feathers I gave him to insure 
great prowess in war?” 

“And the shoulder belt I gave him,” 
cried Tatanka, the Buffalo Bull, who 
had come to the Council from the great 

109 


110 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


prairie, ^‘is for the warpath and not for 
a prison.’^ 

‘‘He cannot blow on the war- 
whistle,’’ said Pehan, the Whooping 
Crane, “for no one will hear him from 
the depths of the earth.” 

And so it went, every animal deplor- 
ing the fact that he had not given Little 
Indian something which would enable 
him to escape from the pit. 

At length the Grreat Beaver, white 
with the snows of many winters, who 
had come a great distance from his is- 
land in the river, arose and said: 

“Brothers, ’tis no time to lament; the 
hour has come when we must rescue our 
red-skinned brother.” 

In the meantime Little Indian had 
tried several times to climb up the side 
of the pit but without success. The 
tribe seldom used the old trail, for the 
warriors hunted on the prairie now that 


WHITE FEATHER 


111 


the buffalo and antelope were plentiful. 
He would probably be missed from the 
camp and a search made for him, but 
it was very doubtful if anyone would 
think of coming that way. 

‘‘Where is my faithful Hinakaja?’’ 
he asked himself. 

As if in answer to his question, the 
Owl fluttered down and alighted on his 
shoulder. 

“0 Little Indian,’’ he cried “every- 
where have I looked for you but no- 
where could I find you.” 

“Evil has befallen me,” replied Lit- 
tle Indian. “I must die.” 

“Trust to me. Once before did I 
bring you aid. Shall I not succeed a 
second time?” replied Hinakaja, and he 
flew away, straight for the Council, ar- 
riving just as the Great Beaver finished 
speaking. 

“But how shall we save him?” asked 


112 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


the animals. ^^The ways of men are 
unlike ours. If the time has come, 
show us how.” 

‘^Follow me!” replied the Owl. ‘‘I 
have work for the strongest of you. 
There is no time to lose for our red- 
skinned brother is faint and weary.” 

The animals followed the Owl until 
they came to an old tree about whose 
trunk and limbs clung a strong vine. 
Away to the topmost branches 
stretched the supple runners. 

^^We must tear off the vine from the 
tree,” cried Hinakaja. 

The Bear with his strong claws un- 
wound the vine, and the Buffalo dug up 
the roots with his horns. Then all the 
animals laid hold and pulled until the 
vine lay upon the ground. 

^^Let us hasten with it,” cried Hina- 
kaja. 

The Deer and the Buffalo picked up 


WHITE FEATHER 


113 


the vine with their horns and started 
off, followed by all the birds and ani- 
mals of the forest. 

Wanduska and Zica heard them 
coming. 

^^What is that great noise, like tear- 
ing branches?’^ cried the Blacksnake. 

see nothing,’’ replied the Red 
Squirrel from his branch, chattering 
loudly as he looked anxiously through 
the rustling leaves. 

^^The earth is shaking,” cried the 
Blacksnake. am filled with fear.” 

Of a sudden the Red Squirrel ceased 
his chatter and ran swiftly down the 
tree. ^‘The animals are coming! The 
animals are coming to Little Indian’s 
rescue!’^ he cried. 

Wanduska glided away, followed by 
the Red Squirrel. When they had 
gone som J^distance they stopped and 
looked at eacn other. ‘^Who told them 


114 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


where Little Indian is imprisoned?” 
asked Wanduska suspiciously. ^‘Did 
you chatter in your dreams?” 

^‘Surely not!” replied Zica. 

^^What will White Otter say when 
he discovers that the animals are bent 
on rescuing Little Indian?” continued 
the Blacksnake. ‘^I must creep away 
and tell him.” 

‘‘I will remain here,” replied Zica, 
^‘I dare not incur the wrath of the an- 
imals. They will surely see me but you 
glide so silently among the leaves and 
grasses that none may hear.” 




CHAPTER XXIV 


UTTLE INDIAN MEETS WHITE OTTEB 

B rothers of the plain and for- 
est/’ cried Little Indian, 
heart is filled with gladness. You 
have rescued me from my wicked 
enemies.” 

Then the Great Beaver replied: 
‘‘Hasten, 0 my red-skinned brother, 
to your lodge among your people, for 
Blue Water waits with longing for the 
sight of her beloved!” 

Little Indian hastily bent his foot- 
steps toward his own camp, where he 
was met by the warriors who had been 
searching for him. 

“Mother,” cried Little Indian, 
“’twas Hinakaja who brought me aid. 
He it was who summoned all the Forest 


115 


116 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


Folk to aid me. Even from the smiling 
prairie came the buffalo to help me.’^ 

‘^Yes, my son/’ she answered simply, 
‘Hhe Great Spirit heard your prayer 
and he sent his earth-born creatures so 
that you might heed his mercy and obey 
the law forever.” 

Little Indian was silent for some 
time. Then he rose and went over to 
where his aged grandmother sat mak- 
ing a pair of moccasins. ‘‘Grand- 
mother, I would find the coward who 
dug the pit beneath the forest trail.” 

For answer she laid down her work 
and pointed towards the lodge of White 
Otter. 

Little Indian slowly walked over to 
the lodge of his enemy. There was no 
one within, so he did not enter. Of a 
sudden his eyes noticed the print of 
moccasins leading from the lodge. Fol- 
lowing them carefully, for here and 


WHITE FEATHER 


117 


there where the earth was hard and 
rocky he would lose the trail, he en- 
tered the forest. At last the moccasin 
prints stopped beside the great pit. 

‘^Coward!’’ hissed Little Indian. 

Twice now have you sought my life 
and twice have you been foiled, O 
treacherous White Otter!’’ 

He did not see the crafty form of the 
Blacksnake between the slender 
grasses nor the hostile eyes of the 
Squirrel in the treetop. Turning his 
face towards the prairie, he left the 
trail and the forest far behind him. 

^‘Must I have a traitor forever in my 
path?” he asked himself. ‘‘Why does 
he not fight me in the open?” 

As if in answer to the question a 
form arose suddenly from the tall 
grass and White Otter stood before 
him. 

“What causes the frown on my 


118 LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 

brother’s brow?” he asked in a mock- 
ing voice. 

For a moment Little Indian made no 
reply. Then he answered in a low 
voice: ^‘Treacherous one I I challenge 
you to combat.” 

“I challenge you to combat,” re- 
peated Little Indian; still White Otter 
made no reply. “Does my enemy fear 
to fight in the open? He is brave to 
dig a pit to entrap a warrior.” 

With a yell of rage, White Otter 
sprang upon him. Though taller and 
heavier, he was not as good a wrestler 
as Little Indian, but weight and 
strength count for much, and the sud- 
denness of the attack bore Little In- 
dian to the earth. Over and over they 
rolled on the prairie grass, the superior 
weight of White Otter at first giving 
him the advantage. Soon, however, the 
knowledge and agility of Little Indian 


WHITE FEATHER 


119 


began to tell. Recovering from the sud- 
denness of the attack, he gained a 
deadly hold on his adversary and 
slowly but surely pressed him to the 
earth. 

‘‘You have conquered!’’ whispered 
White Otter. 

Little Indian arose. “I will not slay 
you for you are one of my own tribe. 
Yet I warn you the next time I will 
show no mercy.” 

No one in the camp would have been 
the wiser as to what was going on, had 
not Blue Water, happening to look 
across the prairie, seen her son borne 
to the earth by the cowardly attack of 
White Otter. Summoning Big Chief 
and a number of warriors, she ran 
swiftly to the scene of combat. 

Little Indian needed no help, how- 
ever. He had his enemy already beaten. 
When Big Chief was informed by the 


120 


LITTLE INDIAN STORIES 


old grandmother how she had seen 
White Otter sneak off to the forest to 
dig the pit, he asked Little Indian: 

^‘Is all this true?’’ 

‘^Yes,” he replied, ‘4t is true.” 

‘‘He shall be driven from the tribe,” 
said Big Chief. “An outcast shall he 
be. The tribe of Big Chief is composed 
of warriors — it has no use for such as 
White Otter. Go!” he commanded, 
turning to the cowardly Indian. 
“Never let your shadow faU again 
across my wigwam. Forever be an out- 
cast. I have spoken ! ’ ’ 

In the sequel to this book, “STAR 
BOY,” will be related the adventures 
of Little Indian’s son. 




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